Shaking Uncontrollably
by Returning Reader
Summary: Johanna copes with the loss of her best friend, Finnick Odair. She doesn't think, through the haze of drugs, that she can hold on any longer. Rated T for mention of mature themes.


Disclaimer: All characters are exclusively property of Suzanne Collins. No copyright infringement intended.

 **Shaking Uncontrollably**

I stand above the water, shaking uncontrollably, as the waves roll around in the black sea. The ocean is particularly volatile tonight. It doesn't look like _his_ eyes at all.

I take a sip of the nasty, amber liquid and realize I don't feel it burn anymore. I'm not surprised. Everything is numb, now.

If I strain my eyes through the alcoholic haze, I can make out the somber lights of the funeral home. Soon, they'll be sending his empty casket out to sea. He would've hated it. But Annie is his only living loved one that anyone knew or cared about, at least. She was too stricken by grief to pull herself together enough, to try to orchestrate a funeral worthy of him. I guess everyone forgot that I'm still here. Teetering on the brink of sanity, pulling myself through with whatever drug I can find. I am still here though. Just not for long.

I realize that I am leaning forwards now, away from the wooden platform that could save me. Towards the torturing waters that threaten to suck me into their never-ceasing vortex. The chipping rock beneath my feet is getting slippery for some reason, and my drug-addled mind cannot figure out why.

I chuckle to myself, ahh… he would be so angry at me, for willingly consuming the poison that he despises.

"Too bad, Fish Face," I scream into the swirling sky, "not here to stop me now, are you? Too busy being- doing..."

My voice drifts off. What _was_ he doing? I can't remember. Where was he right now? Why wasn't he bringing me back down to safety? Away from the water that will mercilessly kill me? I suddenly know why I am on this ledge, though. I am here to throw myself off. To punish myself for everything. _What do I need punishing for?_ I sit down to contemplate the thought.

It takes me a third of the bottle to ironically, sober up. With every sip, a piece of the puzzle comes rushing back.

Sip 1: His name is Finnick Odair.  
Sip 2: He is from District 4.  
Sip 3: He won the 65th Hunger Games.  
4: We met each other as Victors.  
5: We became friends, best friends.  
6: We joined a rebel organization, seeking to dethrone the Capitol.  
7: We were placed back in the Games, and ordered to protect Katniss Everdeen with our lives.  
8: We completed our mission.  
9: He made it out, but I didn't.  
10: I was tortured by the Capitol.  
11: I was saved by the rebels and brought back to District 13.  
12: I became addicted to Morphling.  
13: He married a girl I hardly knew.  
14: He went into battle without me.  
15: He didn't come back.  
16: The Capitol was defeated.  
17: The Mockingjay killed Coin.  
18: The poison killed Snow.  
19: His wife is pregnant with his child.  
20: He is dead.

I remember why I'm punishing myself now.

It was me that killed him. My best friend. The only person I had left, the only person I loved. We had an unspoken promise to protect each other, no matter who or what lay in our way. I was the one that fractured that obligation. I refused to walk through water for my best friend. But my resolve is stronger this time. This time I will walk, sink, drown for him.

Oh Finnick, I lied about so many things. I lied at the wedding. I told you I was happy for you, but you should've known I was too selfish to mean it. I had just always thought that we would end up together. Not like that. Not romantically. Just alone… together.

I lied about my addiction. I told you it was gone. That it had hardly ever existed in the first place. I promised you that I would never relapse. The last assurance was true at the time, I hadn't known that you would leave me, though. Without you, I had to resort to the corruptive poison that would be my downfall. You were my Morphling, and without you, I sunk.

But the drugs, the torture, the pain. They don't matter on this unyielding precipice, I tread upon. Nothing matters, because he is dead. Gone. And now, I wish I was too.

I smile one last time, as I realize the rock is slippery and wet because of the quickly-coming rain. _All the more to drown yourself in, Johanna!_ I think, in a maddening, sing-song voice. I drop the half empty bottle into the raging ocean and watch it disappear, unseen. Soon my body will join it. And my mind. My mind will join him.

The rain starts to soak through, as I pull his sweater tight around me. I bring it up to my nose and I take a deep breath. Feeling at peace when I realize the last thing I will smell, is him. Not my unwashed hair from weeks of neglect. Not the lethal alcohol that has taken over my breath. Only the bit of salty air that resides in the fabric I stole. Taking one last breath of my only piece of him, I plummet. I don't think of Annie and their unborn child. I don't think of Haymitch or Katniss or Peeta or the Rebellion. I don't think about Gale and the future I could've had. All I think about is Finnick Odair.

I hope that when they find me, the sea is the colour of his eyes.


End file.
